Umbariel
by Judy Blue Eyes
Summary: After the One Ring is destroyed, Aragorn son of Arathorn steps up to his rightful place as King of Gondor and takes Arwen Undomiel as his bride, fulfilling his destiny. But what of the rest of the Dunedain? Did they just die out or is there another story?
1. The Chestnut Stream

A/N – Chapters will generally be longer than this. Promise.

Legolas sat up straighter in his saddle, straining to hear the faint sound that the wind had brought to him just a moment before. The riders around him perked up, most sending odd looks his way. He was riding north with a group of Rohirrim who had happened to be going the same way as he when he set out from Edoras. He knew most of their names and called a few of them friend. He didn't at all mind the company, except at times like this.

There was something on the wind that had caught his attention, and that did not bode well for the company. He might have said his goodbyes and parted from them to follow where the voice told him, but then again, he might need their strength in numbers. Arod stopped in his tracks, letting his master concentrate more fully on the direction from which the sound came. When he found it, Legolas urged the horse forward, and Arod knowingly sprang into a gallop. The Rohirrim, having now had time to rest their full attention on Legolas but little time to actually assess the situation, instinctively followed behind.

The wind started to pick up and Legolas' hair flailed around him, whipping every which way and impeding even his elven sight, but Arod was on course now and there was no stopping him. A few hills and valleys later, Legolas began to hear the dull rushing of a stream. This not being the sound he'd expected to hear, he began the wonder if he'd been imagining all along. Arod kept his pace. He, at least, had enough sense to know that his master was not delusional.

The other riders were falling behind. Their horses were becoming quite bored with the sudden sprint and did not have as much faith in Legolas as Arod did. The riders themselves were not so very sure of their course, either, but Legolas galloped on and so, having nothing better in particular to do and since it wasn't very far from the course they had originally intended to take, the company followed. A few moments later, Legolas crested a hill and then vanished from sight, nothing unusual, except that he failed to come into view again on the upward slope of the next hill. Before they knew it, the main body of the company was speeding down the hill and into the little river at the bottom.

Legolas had come to that top of the hill and immediately known what he had heard. So had Arod, who had managed to stop half way down the slope. The large group of riders surged around Legolas as he stood looking at the figure in the water. They had split their horses away from him in order not to run him down, and thank Elbereth they had or they would also have trampled the body. One of the men in the stream regained control of his horse only to find himself looking down onto the body of a pale, naked young girl. He dismounted and stepped over to her where she lay on the rocks. Her head was cut, her body bruised and her chestnut hair was flowing down the stream mingled with fresh blood. He shivered as he thought of his own children back home, his little daughter with the blond hair typical of his people and young son with his mother's dark complexion. Other men had gathered there by now and a circle had been formed around the girl. Yet no one moved in; no one touched her. No one even checked for signs of life. Instead, the circle broke apart at one end as the men turned to face Legolas. Now finally fully realizing what the race had been towards, they waited for his instructions concerning the girl, who, without him, might have gone unnoticed.


	2. The Elf in the Corner

A/N: Well, I've revised this a bit and I've revised the next chapter a ton. I'm hoping I can keep going on this. In fact, I'm planning on it. I'm making myself chapter notes now, and that is a very good sign. So to those of you who once read this: this is going to be so much better. And to those of you who are new: I'm glad you're here. And to all of you: thanks for reading.

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In the dim lamplight, Legolas stared at the soundly sleeping girl. She had not woken up since they'd found her nor had she said anything as she slept. Legolas was becoming increasingly bothered by the questions that kept popping up unsolicited in his head. Who was she? What had happened to her? And what was she doing so far from home? And alone?

Legolas had surveyed the area and given the order for camp to be made on the opposite side of one of the hills bordering the stream. He'd left instructions as to the tending to of the girl, but then quickly set off to explore the surrounds. He'd hoped to find the girl's assailant or, at the very least, some sign of who it might have been. He'd hoped to find a home nearby where someone might have heard or seen something or even her own home. He'd found none of these.

When he'd returned to the camp as night approached, however, he'd been greeted with some rather odd news. When the girl had been examined something had come to light that had not been immediately apparent. The girl, the men had told him quite anxiously, was an elf.

This Legolas had not originally believed this, but upon examining the girl himself, he found that the signs were quite clear. She was, in fact, an elf. What that meant, he could not even guess. Legolas had not heard of any elven children being born of late and, as children are rare among the elves, he was sure he should have heard if one had been born. She quite obviously hailed from Imladris, for the elves of the northern regions are known especially for their golden hair, which she had none of. And she was so young, so very, very young.

Legolas was still pondering these things in the little tent, when the girl's eyes fluttered open. She scanned the tent slowly, but did not move or make a sound. Legolas was so deep in thought, he did not notice that she had awakened until a sudden scream escaped her lips. He jumped up, quite startled, and the girl jumped too and shrank into a dark corner clutching the blankets that had been tucked close around her. The noise brought a few men who had been just outside in, and they were surprised by the scene that they found. One of them spoke up. "What's going on?" he asked, turning to Legolas.

Another followed that with, "What have you done?"

Yet another asked, "Why didn't you tell us she was awake?"

And then the questions came back around with, "What's happened?"

But Legolas heard none of these. He stared at the shaking girl and said softly, "Na er. Lle na varna sinome." Be still. You are safe here. The girl did not respond. "Im alinnas trasta lle," he tried, but the girl did not move. I will not harm you. Legolas stepped toward the girl cautiously and knelt down in front of her. "Manan car lle kaura im?" he cooed as he reached out his hand towards the girl. Why do you fear me? But the girl began to scream again, and he was forced to back away. Finally, he turned and acknowledged the presence of the men saying, "She fears me, but I do not know why. I have done her no harm. She awoke and screamed. I have not touched her."

The man in front, Eorlas, the same man who had first seen her in the river, stepped toward the girl as Legolas stepped away. "Hush, child. You need not fear. None of us shall lay a hand on you. You are quite safe now."

The girl allowed him to approach and seemed to inspect him as he did. When he was near enough to hear her whisper, she begged him, "Please! Please, do not let him touch me! Do not let him hurt me!"

The man turned then to Legolas and, rising and taking him by the arm, led him out of the tent. "What did you do?" he asked him. "That girl is terrified of you, afraid for her life. No one becomes so afraid for no reason."

At this Legolas deliberately shook his head and stated, "I have done nothing other than watch over her as she slept." The man was silent, and obviously doubtful, but Legolas refused to continue, refused to defend himself against a threat so unfounded.

It took Eorlas a few moments to realize that Legolas wasn't going to answer his accusation any farther than he had. "Alright. Alright. You're right." And Eorlas knew he was. "But it doesn't matter in any case. We just need figure what to do about it. You're the one should be examining her and helping her to heal as you're an elf yourself and the only one here knows anything about 'em, yet you're the one she's afraid of. How d'you s'ppose we get around that?"

"I suppose," said Legolas, "that you are going to go back in there and find out just why she's so afraid of me," and he pushed the man through the tent flap.

At least half an hour later Legolas had to send another man in to bring Eorlas out, which he did. Eorlas, when asked what the girl had told him, stood stuttering in the shadow of the elf. "Quick, man! Pay attention! I'm simply asking you to tell me what she said when you asked her why she is so afraid of me," the elf said impatiently. It was an odd thing for Legolas to be, impatient, but this whole business was mare unsettling than orcs in the forest.

"I- well- er- she-"

"Speak, Eorlas!"

"She asked me if I was blind."

"What?"

"When I said I wasn't she asked me why _I_ was not afraid of you."

"I don't need it verbatim, Eorlas. Just tell me the main points," Legolas clarified more softly now.

"It seems… sir," Eorlas added the title to soften the blow of what would come next, "that she believes you to be… evil."

"Evil?" It was a soft question, in a betrayed voice.

"She believes _elves _to be evil."

Legolas had no response. He was appalled. "Eorlas," he managed to say, "_She_ is an elf."

"I know. I said the same."

This was too much for Legolas to understand. He waved Eorlas away and began to pace back and forth in front of the tent, a pastime he kept up for hours. Then, in a flash of rash judgment, entered the tent. He stepped in with elven grace and silence so that the girl did not hear him enter. She was still sitting in the corner where he had last seen her, rocking herself slowly, back and forth, with her knees held to her chest and her hair, now dried, hanging down in front of her face in strands that now seemed auburn with the tint of blood. "Ya na lin tuule?" Legolas asked quietly, still standing a good distance away from the girl and with his hands where they could easily be seen. What's your name? The girl gasped and jumped slightly, but this time, at least, she did not scream. She did not answer either, however. "Mammen car lle baro?" he asked, stepping a bit closer. Where do you live? Again, there was no response. "Ya na lle car et sinome? Car lle ista ya nalanta lle? Manan car lle alnanquet im? Manan na lle kaure? Car lle alhanya im aniro an astya lle? Car lle—" ,What were you doing here? Do you know who attacked you? Why do you not answer me? Why are you afraid? Do you not understand that I want to help you? Do you— Legolas stopped abruptly realizing what the problem was. "You do not understand the language of the elves," he said softly. It was a simple statement, but a statement filled with wonder. "Im na hireatha," he said instinctively, then, coming out of his shock, "There. I did it again. I'm sorry. I meant to say, I'm sorry."

The girl looked up at him with eyes no longer so much afraid as questioning. She knew that this being, whoever he was, was evil, and yet she could not imagine how it could be so. "I'm Suwyn. Most people just call me Wyn," she said softly by way of introduction.

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A/N: For the Elvish translations here I'm trying to stick with mainly Sindarin as this is the language Legolas would most likely have used, but there will be some Quenya word stuck in there that I just can't find in Sindarin. Sorry.


	3. Wyn

A/N: Like I said in the previous chapter, major renovations in this chapter. Here's to hoping you like them.

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Legolas was taken aback by this. All he had to do was speak to her in the Common Tongue? "My name is Legolas. And that is what they call me," he said amiably. "May I sit?" He motioned to the spot before her. Wyn nodded in assent. After he had situated himself, he smiled and said, "Now then, why are you so afraid of me?"

Wyn lowered her head. "They say you hide out in the forests, not because you have to but because you prefer it. They say your ways are evil, that you will hurt us if you can. You don't come out often, but when you do, you come to wreak havoc on our lands and murder our people. They tell me there was a time when you roamed these lands often, killing as you would, but that they fought back, slaughtered most of you, and now that your numbers are dwindling you prefer to spend your time in the safety of your woods, killing all who enter there and only leaving in times of direst need."

Legolas sat still in front of her, his brows furrowed as he was in deep thought. For a time he said nothing, then, "Who are they?"

"People. Everyone," Wyn said. Legolas looked doubtfully at her.

"That's interesting. I haven't heard it from anyone."

"Well, I don't suppose they'd be thick enough to say anything to you, even if they aren't bright enough to run away." she said, gaining confidence. "Anyways, no one ever says it outright."

"Ah," Legolas said softly. "Then how do you know."

"I put it together." She shrugged. "Pointed ears, they say. Strange attire, they say. The servants of the Enemy are liars and cheats. His best are made in his image: beautiful and terrible. They look too fair to be natural. They come from the woods, they say, the woods to the north. And often they come from the east. You came from the east."

"The tent faces east." Legolas shook his head. "These are all very… arbitrary characteristics, Suwyn. There are many races in this world with ears less round than a human's, not least of all yours."

She cast her eyes to the floor and waited a long moment before responding, hoping he would go on, hoping she wouldn't have to. "I am cursed. And it is their curse. Your curse." She looked up at him. "My father often curses the elves in his speech, curses their evil. It is your evil that killed my mother, and you evil that cursed me. He told me this long ago, though he rarely speaks of it now." She picked a piece of dried blood from her hair.

"Your father?" Legolas was astounded by Wyn's answer and had no idea what to say. "But _you're_ an elf."

"I'm not an elf!" she yelled, but then she quieted. "It's just a curse. Just something my grandfather did years ago. My father didn't know when he married my mother. Elsewise, he never would have done it."

"I don't understand. What did your grandfather do?" She lowered her eyes once again and declined to answer. He rose from his place on the floor. "Suwyn, you're an elf."

"I am _not_!" she yelled and stood quickly to face him.

"Elbereth," Legolas whispered then under his breath. It had immediately become apparent to him that the elf in front of him, who had previously appeared no more than a young girl was in truth more of a young woman. She stood matching his gaze eyes for eye, and almost matching his height. Beneath the folds of the tunic that served of her garment her slim, lithe form was apparent. Doubtless this was what had given them all the initial impression. That and her face. Moments earlier, she had been a child, soft and frightened and innocent. But in the past moments she had completely transformed and her face was now one that held wisdom beyond her years. It was that of an elf.

"What?" Wyn asked her voice soft again and the fire gone from her eyes.

"Elbereth." Legolas repeated. "Why? What did you think?"

"Nothing. My mother used to say that. I never knew what it meant. I asked her once. She told me to hush up and finish slicing the carrots. Of course, father was there. Mother was always harsh when father was there." Wyn sounded like a child again, matter-of-factly relaying an anecdote.

"Your mother was an elf, then?" Legolas asked hopefully.

"No--!"

"I mean," Legolas interrupted before she could continue, "was she like you?"

"No. My mother was not cursed."

Legolas decided not to explain Elbereth to her just yet, thinking, and rightly so, that she might not take too well to realizing that her mother was speaking quite like an elf. "How did you mother die?" It was a blunt question, but an honest one. And at least he would not be forcing any truths on her.

"A sickness of the soul. It came on her after I was born, caused by the curse. It was an elven sickness, my father said, and one that could not be cured. Not by any hereabouts anyways."

"She blamed herself?"

"It wasn't just that. It was a sickness. It was a spell your people cast on her. And it was your people who killed her."

Legolas was unsure of what to do. His heart reached out to the girl. She'd obviously been vastly misled. But what could he do now? Over time certainly her could show her truth. But what now? What next? So he simply sat there dolefully, indecision on his face and in his heart, until at last she sat back down and resumed staring at the floor. Then he spoke the question that had been playing about the corners of his mind. "Why are you no longer afraid of me?"

She did not look up at him, but only responded quietly and with great precision of words, "I am in a camp of men whom I do not know and who do not fear you. They look to you, in fact, for direction. I do not know how I came to be here, but I fear I am now beyond help. If you wish going to hurt me, there is not much I alone can do. But if you _were_ going to hurt me, I suspect you would have done it by now."

There was little he could say to that, so he just continued on. "You do not remember?" She shook her head. He took a deep breath and continued, "We found you in a stream on the other side of this hill just this morning. I was hoping you'd remember who had left you there so injured."

Slowly, she lifted her head meet his gaze. "You mean to tell me, you saved me?" she asked, a sort of disbelieving smile on her face.

"Yes." He paused as she smiled. "I suppose you though I'd kidnapped you."

"Well," she said softly, "if I thought that, at least I knew you'd cared for me."

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A/N: Review, please!


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